I am now convinced that snow camp is the best thing to ever happen to winter. It is SO MUCH FUN.
For starters, I'm sorry, but I'm obsessed with this frozen pond. I grew up in Virginia. We didn't have these.
Snow camp was everything that winter should be: Piles of snow everywhere. Sunshine and rosy cheeks. Sessions with a great speaker. Tubing down a giant hill. Singing. Sports that don't require you to be athletic. New and old friends.
Semi-captive audience.
This is broomball. It's like a primitive version of hockey: an old volleyball, some duct-taped brooms, and no skates. Also tons of fun.
It didn't take me long to figure out why I liked broomball so much. After an unusually warm week, the top of the ice had thawed and re-frozen multiple times, creating an especially slippery surface. So, while playing broomball, staying on your feet was the number one challenge.
Which completely levels the playing field. I grew up with gym class as my arch-nemesis, and it took me years after finishing high school to realize that what I hated was not the physical exercise. Rather, what I hated was my own lack of hand-eye coordination. And even more so, the people who made me feel bad about it.
So when the naturally athletic people were handicapped by a slippery pond, I quickly realized my opportunity: I just had to learn how to keep my balance more effectively than they did, and then I might actually be good at a sport.
This weekend was short and sweet. Physically and mentally stimulating. It fit perfectly in my Lenten intention of spending more time outdoors. I can't wait to go back.
I'm telling you -- if you have any opportunity whatsoever to go to RMMC for a snowy weekend -- DO IT.
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